A Different Kind of Wisdom
by edana
Summary: Luna Lovegood undergoes questioning by the fallen Professor Snape. If she can't provide any information about the Order of the Phoenix, she will be executed by the Death Eaters.
1. Chapter 1

**Warning: **_Half-Blood Prince _spoilers.

**Author's Note:**

I wrote this several months ago in a script format just after I'd finished _Half-Blood Prince_, just to find when I was ready to post it that this site had made a new rule against scripts. I was exceedingly frustrated, to say the least. But I finally worked up the nerve to convert it to an objective narrative, which wasn't as tedious as I dreaded it would be and I got to add a bit more description, so all turned out well.

This is a very short, three-chapter story I wrote mainly because I like the idea of sticking Luna and Snape, two of my favorite characters, in the same room together. It's objective because wanted to do a canon Snape voice without the interruption of inner dialogue and because I'd like to keep the inner workings of Loony Lovegood's mind a mystery. It makes her all the more interesting.

**Disclaimer: **My title is taken from an icon by PotterPuffs at LiveJournal. The out-of-place thing Luna says near the end is a quote from Ezekiel 18:20.

* * *

It was pitch black, cold, and damp. One might have even expected to hear a drip drip drip coming from some unknown leak, but all was silent. That is, until an unseen door screeched open slowly, allowing soft, indirect light pour in from the top of the staircase which blocked the entrance from view. The light revealed that the room was a stone dungeon, though no objects in the room could be made out in the dimness. The light faded with another screeching of the door closing, and the sound of someone locking it reverberated off the rock walls. 

"Who is that?" came the voice of a young girl from the floor of the dungeon.

The only answer was the click click of hard soles descending the staircase, but soon a light, like a sparkler or a lighted fuse, appeared midair, with the hissing sound one would expect from such a light. It was being produced from the tip of a long wand. Now two faces could be seen, but just barely. One was the owner of the voice from before; a girl of about fifteen, with enormous, wide eyes and long, blonde hair that was neither curly nor straight. The girl was seated in large metal chair which was bolted to the floor, her arms strapped to the armrests as were her feet to the legs. The other face was the owner of the wand. He was tall and middle-aged, with straight black hair which fell past his face and a large, hooked nose. His expression was solemn and stern.

"Oh, I know who _you_ are," said the girl in a strangely calm tone for someone strapped to a chair in a dungeon. "_You're_ Professor Snape."

As Professor Snape reached up with his wand to light the candle chandelier that hung over the girl's head, he replied in a dignified, deep voice, "You're quite correct Miss...excuse me, but your name escapes me."

He extinguished his wand, all of the candles on the chandelier having lit magically after the first was ignited. Now both people could be seen fully. Professor Snape's complexion was rather oily, which matched his greasy hair, and he wore a plain, black, hooded cloak with the hood down. The girl wore light green, casual-looking robes, which were very pretty but for the rips at one arm and one tear near the knee. She looked as though she'd recently been in a struggle. More of their surroundings could be seen now as well; a heavy wooden table sat about five feet across from the girl's chair, behind Snape. There were also various torture items lining the walls of the dungeon.

"Luna Lovegood," the girl replied promptly. Then, in the same matter-of-fact tone, though somehow full of wonder, "_You_ killed Professor Dumbledore."

Snape stared at Luna Lovegood for a moment, face expressionless, then replied, "You are correct again, Miss Lovegood."

"Why did you do that?" she asked simply. "He was a very nice man, and Harry said he had quite a lot of confidence in you."

"_I _will be asking the questions here, Miss Lovegood," he replied fiercely, eyes blazing, but keeping his overall composure.

"Oh, yes, that does make more since," she said, sounding oddly conversational. "I thought that they must have tied me up for one reason or another. Only, why have they gotten _me_, exactly? That doesn't make very much since at all."

"Because you are the only suspected member of the Order of the Phoenix that we have been able to capture," he answered in a much calmer but nevertheless stern manner.

"The Order of the Phoenix?" she repeated in confusion. "Oh, but I'm not a member of the Order."

"No, I didn't think so," he replied, now the essence of tiredness seeping into his words.

"Then why am I still here, Professor?"

"Because you still may have some information that could be useful to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

Luna furrowed her brow in thought. "I don't think I know any important secrets." Her eyes brightened with an idea. "I do know that the Minister of Magic is training his vampire army to ride Betreckled Blabberhogs, but he's only using them to overrun the French Minister of Magic, not You-Know-Who. But everyone knows that."

"Yes, well, do try to keep the information you give me factual, Miss Lovegood," replied Snape irritably, "and not filth you've gotten from tabloids."

"But it's the truth, Professor," she told him forcefully. "You may laugh now, but people used to think that the Red Backed Hugleblore was only a myth, too, but when Lucinda Plattery met one, she never laughed again."

There was a long pause as Snape considered Luna with an annoyed expression. He then told her in forced calmness, "Alright, then, let us remain in the realm of unpublished..._facts_."

"Okay," she replied, nodding her head a bit in agreement as if she had a say in the matter.

Then a long period of time passed- several minutes- during which Snape stared intently at Luna while she gazed around the room.

"I can't think of anything," Luna announced finally, causing Snape to relax suddenly as if he'd been holding his breath.

"I didn't think so," he said, half to himself.

"I could make something up if you like," she offered.

"No, no," he replied, waving a hand in the air as if to brush her suggestion away. He was frustrated, but not angry.

"I don't really think I should be telling you things, anyway," she told him simply. "You work for You-Know-Who."

He didn't reply, but only resumed staring at her, boring holes in her with his eyes.

Luna allowed this to go on for about a minute before she asked, "Professor, why are you looking at me like that?"

He blinked and sighed, relaxing much as he'd done before. "I am practicing Legilimency on you. You really do not know anything, do you? Not even the smallest, most mundane, useless detail about the Order."

"No. I'm sorry, Professor," she said in polite apology.

"It's fine," he replied, moving towards the table. He leaned backwards against it, arms folded, then gave a small, humorless laugh, almost a snort, shaking his head.

"Will you be torturing me now?" Luna asked, and though her voice was slightly smaller, it was nevertheless oddly confident.

"No," he replied, almost businesslike. "You seem to be cooperating to the best of your ability. I am usually only forced to torture those who are sufficiently experienced at Occlumency to the point where I cannot obtain information from them through Legilimency alone."

"That's good. When is the last time you've tortured someone, Professor?"

"When I was twenty-six," he replied solemnly. There was a short pause, and then Snape asked, "Why do you still refer to me as 'Professor'?"

"Oh, you're not my professor anymore, are you? I suppose because I still think of you as my teacher. May I still call you that? It's really hard to change habits like that."

"Call me whatever you like, Miss Lovegood," he told her irritably.

"Oh, good. Thank you, Professor."

Then there was an exceedingly long pause during which Snape stared at the floor and Luna stared at Snape.

"What are we doing now?" she asked after a while.

"I'm thinking," he replied sharply.

"What are you thinking about? Maybe I can help."

"I am attempting to contrive an alternative method to acquire information from you."

"But I don't know anything, Professor."

"Yes," he replied, voice suddenly dead and dark, "but do you know what will happen the moment I return with nothing to report?"

"No, I don't. What?"

"They'll send someone down to kill you."

Her already impossibly huge eyes widened further and she said in a fearful whisper, "Oh, no! Why would they do that?"

"Because you will be better use dead," he told her gravely. "It will scare the Order and those involved with the Order, particularly if you are sent to them in pieces." Luna gasped. "However, if you are able to give me even the tiniest piece of information, you will simply be returned to school and have your memory erased."

"Why?" she whispered.

"Because that way the Order will not know that we've gotten information out of you. Now, are you absolutely certain that you know nothing?"

"I don't know! Maybe I do know something but I just don't know it's important." For the first time she was beginning to sound urgent.

"Alright, then, let us try and extract it from your memory." He pushed himself from the table and grabbed a chair from the wall, placing it in front of Luna and taking a seat. "You were in Dumbledore's Army with Potter, were you not?"

"Yes!" she whispered.

"Then tell me about that, Miss Lovegood."

"What would you like me to tell you, exactly?"

"Anything that comes to mind," he told her, now sounding a bit like a psychiatrist. But a very grumpy one.

"Okay," she said, and thought for a moment. "Well, D.A. was Hermione Granger's idea, I think. She got nearly thirty people together so Harry Potter could teach us because she didn't really think Professor Umbridge was doing a very good job. I don't think she was, either." She was sounding more relaxed now, as though she'd forgotten her life was on the line.

Snape sneered and commented venomously, "Oh, I'll wager that Potter _loved_ being automatically chosen as your leader."

"I don't really think he did," she replied thoughtfully. "I think he was probably embarrassed. He kept saying that he didn't do all the things he did because he was good at defending himself, but because of luck or something. But Hermione convinced him anyway."

"Tell me about the lessons," he said, moving things along.

"Oh, they were really wonderful. We learned how to block spells properly and lots of counter jinxes and things. I think my favorite was learning how to make a Patronous. Mine looked like a bat, and Zacharias Smith said it was because I was batty, which I think was rather mean of him. But then Harry told him to shut up for me. Harry's very nice. He took me the Christmas party in Professor Slughorn's office last year."

"Did he now?" he replied, sounding bored.

"Yes. It was really very fun. Except he left after a while. But that's okay because I got to talk with Professor Trelawney. I like her very much."

"He left, you say?" he asked, lifting his eyebrows in slight interest.

"Yes, I think he left right after you and Draco Malfoy did. I don't think Harry likes Draco Malfoy very much." They sat in silence for a moment, staring at one another. "I like this. No one ever listens to me for very long usually."

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself," he replied peevishly. "However, I have yet to read anything of any use from you thus far, so your endless ramblings haven't saved you."

"Oh, no," she said, remembering to be upset. "Maybe if I keep talking..."

"Maybe," he said sarcastically.

There was a short pause as Snape waited for Luna to speak again.

"You don't like Harry Potter very much, do you, Professor?" she asked.

Irritated, he replied, "No, I believe it is safe to say that I don't, Miss Lovegood."

"Why is that? He's usually very nice to people."

With surprising heatedness Snape replied, "Potter is a pompous, self-absorbed, self-satisfied moron who thinks the world is in love with him."

"Oh, he doesn't think the world is in love with him."

"He doesn't," he replied flatly.

"No. He _knows_ the world is in love with him. Though I don't think he enjoys it very much. I think he wishes people would leave him alone." Snape replied with a "hmph" noise. "That's why he took me to the Christmas party, I think. He wanted girls to stop bothering him about it and he knew I'm not really- well, in your words, Professor- I'm not 'in love' with him."

"You seem to know quite a lot about Potter for someone who claims lack of interest in him," he told her skeptically.

"I don't think I know much about Harry. What I've said seems fairly obvious to me. Excuse me, Professor, but remind me again why you think he's self-absorbed?"

"It runs in the family," he replied darkly.

"What do you mean by that?"

With a passionate but controlled anger he replied "I mean that I knew Potter's father and know what sort of attitude he had about himself and the people around him. He assumed that everyone worshiped him, and he therefore worshiped himself. He was a bully and a coward, and these traits have been passed down to his son."

Then Luna said in a tone no longer conversational but firm, "The son will not bear the punishment for the father's iniquity; the righteousness of the righteous will be upon himself, and the wickedness of the wicked will be upon himself."

"Excuse me?" Snape said, taken aback.

"It's really unfair of you to assume Harry is like his dad," she said, returning to her usual voice.

He stood, giving a frustrated sigh- almost a grunt. "We're getting nowhere. Miss Lovegood, do you _wish_ for your appendages to be lopped off and sent to different members of the Order of the Phoenix?"

"No," she answered quietly.

He suddenly lunged at Luna, seizing her by the shoulders. "Then **think**!"


	2. Chapter 2

**To Flame **who said, "i love your luna tho! most of the time she's completely in character, tho i think you slip a little when she's scared," this was actually a bit of a challenge for me. We never ever see Luna scared or nervous except for when they all go to the Ministry of Magic in _Order of the Phoenix_. And even then, Luna shows no signs of fear because the entire time she's doing something, taking action, not panicking. But there's one part where we see her sit down and talk to Harry just after she drags- I think it was Neville?- to safety. There, she's whispering, although no one is there to overhear them. So I decided that when she was nervous, she would whisper. Also, strapped in the chair, she has nothing to do. She can't act. So she must show some signs of nervousness because, although she's Loony, she's still human. Just felt like sharing...

**To duj: **While Snape could provide examples of Harry's arrogance (though personally I don't think he's very arrogant except in _Order_), I had him tell Luna the main reason he hated him. James is the reason Snape hates Harry from the very beginning, from the very first moment he mocks him in class. Harry hadn't done anything at that time. Also, I'd call middle-aged from 35-55, though I just looked it up, and Merriam-Webster says 40-60. Meh, I was close.

**Author's Notes: **I would just like to reiterate that this story is _not_ romantic, a fact you need to keep in mind during this chapter especially. Also, these final two chapters are quite short. I don't know how that happened...

* * *

Much time had passed by. Snape was now sitting in his chair again, but he had moved it farther away from Luna, so that the back was against the table. His elbow was on the back of the chair, and he was resting his forehead in his hand, the other arm lying on his lap. Luna was still restrained. 

"Are you even trying anymore?" he asked wearily.

"No..." she replied absent-mindedly.

"I suppose you're stalling, then," he said, sitting upright.

"Not really..." she replied. "I'm making a list of things I haven't done that I want to. I've never been to the beach. I've never drunk coffee. I've never talked to someone on a telephone. I think that would be interesting. I never found my mother's potions book- it's supposed to be in our attic somewhere. I've never had a boyfriend. ...I need to clean my room. I need to get someone to feed my owl. I never learned to play an instrument. I never got my ears pierced. I just wear clip-ons. I've never had a best girl friend. I've never written a book. Or a short story. I'd like to do that. ...I forgot to give Lizzie Valentino's spell checking quill back to her. I won't get to give my dad the birthday present I made him. It's a painting of a northern water stiggle. I've always wanted to drive a car... I've never kissed a boy." Throughout her recitation she didn't sound remotely self-pitying, but only slightly mournful. After a short pause, she asked, "Professor, have you ever kissed anyone?"

He had been staring at Luna with his brow furrowed, though not in the same way he had done when he read her mind. His expression did not change when he replied, "What business is it of yours?"

"I don't know. I was only curious." She sat there for a moment, thinking, her brow furrowing to match Snapes. "I was thinking of things that I could do before I have to die," she announced slowly. "I was hoping you would kiss me."

The request was entirely unexpected, and he blinked once in confusion before telling her, "That is highly inappropriate, Miss Lovegood," but with less anger than one might expect.

"I don't really care," she replied simply. "I mean, I am about to die, aren't I?"

Snape watched her for a moment, thinking, then suggested, "I could pierce your ears."

"I don't really care if my ears are pierced if they're going to be cut off," she told him. Snape made a sound like a quiet, bitter laugh. "Please, Professor?" she pleaded, her voice uncharacteristically small.

He considered her for a moment, then rose from his seat, dragged the chair closer to hers, and sat down again. His face was inches from hers, staring at her intently with an unreadable expression, his hands on his knees. She watched him expectantly. A full minute passed during which neither of them moved.

"Professor?" she asked.

He suddenly leaned back, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his middle finger and thumb. "Don't call me that right now," he said firmly.

"What should I call you, then?"

"Call me- Don't call me anything."

"Alright," she replied.

"I'm- allow me to think for a moment."

"Alright."

He resumed his former position of his hands on his knees, the same intent expression on his face, the same expectant one on Luna's. After a moment, he leaned in slowly, but immediately backed away. He did this twice more before reaching into his cloak for his wand.

"I'm just going to-" he said, and waived his wand. The straps loosened around Luna's wrists and her hands were freed.

She rubbed her wrists as he put his wand away and resumed his position. It was odd to see this man in this situation. One could tell that he had nerves of steel, and that the only emotion ever provoked from him was anger- or, it was the only emotion he cared to express. Yet now he was nervous. It could be because she was his former student, or because he was doing something uncharacteristically kind. Probably both. But it was certain that he would not have been doing this had the situation not been so extreme. Luna had sparked a rare compassion in Snape, it was obvious. But, however strong this compassionate motive was, a full minute passed, during which Snape leaned forward and backed away several times until, finally, he managed to give Luna a chaste but lingering kiss, his eyes shut tight, hers closed but more relaxed. His hands remained on his knees, unmoving, but one of hers moved slowly towards his arm, reaching for him. The moment her fingers touched his sleeve, he broke the kiss and stood quickly, folding his arms. Luna was left blinking, her hand raised in midair.

"Thank you," she said, lowering her hand.

"Yes, well-" He began to pace. "Do you think you may still be able to remember something?"

"I don't really think so," she told him.

"Well, try," he said sternly. "If it isn't soon they will send someone to see why there has been such a delay."

"Alright."


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Notes: **Final chapter! Hopefully you won't be too too disappointed. And sorry for taking so long- I got caught up in school. Thank you all for your wonderful reviews, and especially thanks to duj for all your wonderful criticisms.

As I reread this chapter in editing, I realized that Luna kinda sounds like a dumb blonde at parts, which is not what I intended. I just see her as trapped inside her own head so much that she's a bit slow on the uptake.

* * *

It was some minutes or hours later, and Luna's hand had again been bound to the chair. Snape's chair had been returned to its place near the table, though Snape himself was standing, watching Luna with his arms folded. 

"Can you do something for me, Miss Lovegood?" he asked, his voice cutting through the silence that had filled in the room for quite some time.

"What's that, Professor?"

His tone had a biting edge to it as it almost always did, yet it was nevertheless civil as he said, "If by some strange turn of events you actually _do_ recall something of use, I want you to deliver a message to the Order for me."

"But I thought you were going to erase my memory."

"Yes, but if I return you myself, this can be avoided," he told her in a slightly lower tone.

"Oh," she said, only mild intrigue evident in the word.

He began to rub the bridge of his nose with his middle finger, his eyes closed in concentration. "I don't even know why I'm telling you to do this," he said half to himself. "I sincerely doubt that they will believe anything I have to say..."

"What am I supposed to tell them?"

He folded his arms in thought for a moment before replying, "Tell them..." He sighed in either frustration or exhaustion. "Tell them they still have an insider among the Death Eaters."

"Really? Who?"

_"Me_, you twit!" he almost yelled, nearly lunging forward in fury.

Luna did not react to his anger, but simply replied brightly, "_Oh_. Well, that's good." Then she paused as a look of skepticism crossed her face. "But that can't be true. You killed Professor Dumbledore."

He turned away and said in a quiet, bitter voice, "Well, things aren't always as they appear."

"What do you mean?"

He turned back and said in full voice, "I mean-" he broke off, looking at the floor. In a lower tone that almost sounded cold he said, "I mean he ordered me to do it."

"You mean Professor Dumbledore?" she asked in amazement. "Why would he do something like that?"

"Because..." Then he looked her in the face, speaking louder and more irritably, "I made the Unbreakable Vow to kill him. I couldn't escape it." His eyes lowered now, but his posture remained the same as he said solemnly, "I had the full intention of breaking the Vow, but, if I had, the Malfoys would have died along with me, so Dumbledore convinced me that it would be better if he were to..." He sort of half collapsed in his chair, his right hand gripping the wooden arm as he sat, and he covered his face with his hands. "He was lying there...begging me... I didn't think I could do it. Then I just...did." His hands dropped to his lap and he gazed up at the ceiling- through it. "How could I!" he cried in angst. "I loved the man..." He leaned forward and stared at his hands. "I'm still not completely convinced that Dumbledore made the correct choice. He was worth a hundred of us." Then he gave a small, bitter laugh, clinching his hands into fists. "And then Potter has the audacity to call me a coward. ...Coward." He looked up at Luna, who was now staring at him with eyes even wider than normal, and said in a tired voice, "But, as I said, it's all worthless. They won't believe this story anyway."

Then Luna said in a small, earnest whisper, "I believe you, Professor."

The two stared at one another for a moment, then Snape once again focused his attention to his hands, which were now open and relaxed. A long while passed during which neither spoke, Luna watching Snape avidly. Suddenly, there was the sound of the heavy door at the top of the stairs unlocking and opening as sunlight poured down the steps and into the dungeon. Two men and a woman, all dressed in black cloaks like Snape's, stormed down.

"Severus, you've been down here for ages," came the booming voice of the big, burly middle-aged man just as he passed through the threshold. "What's the holdup?"

"Yes, Severus," agreed a tall, elegantly thin woman with cropped auburn hair, "this girl can't be too difficult to crack. What is she? Sixteen?"

"Fifteen," Luna corrected her pleasantly. "We've been talking."

The woman gave her a wry smile. "Have you now?"

"I apologize for the delay," Snape said composedly, interrupting further conversation, "but Miss Lovegood here doesn't seem to know much at all."

The second man (boy, actually. He looked to be in his early twenties and was very slight with narrow eyes and a slouching posture) pointed his wand at Luna and asked, "Shall I take care of her, then?"

"No, no," Snape replied dismissively. "I've...I've been able to get one or two things out of her. It's best that I return her right away."

_"You_ return her?" said the older man, his eyebrow cocked. "Oh, no, you need to tell Oggy what you've learned right away. The Dark Lord is getting impatient."

"Yeah, and it better be good, too," said the boy, almost hungrily, giving Snape a twisted smile. "He nearly killed Terkins last week for giving bad information, remember?"

"Oh dear," came Luna's small voice.

"Don't be stupid, Maxim," the woman told the boy and cast her wand over Luna to unbind her from the chair. "Severus knows what he's doing. I'd wager he's the best Legilimens in the world next to the Dark Lord." She then magically bound Luna's hands and feet together and levitated her in the air. She turned to Snape and said, "I'll take care of this one, alright? You go talk to Oggy."

Then the three climbed the stairs, the boy rather sulkily, Luna floating in front.

"Professor?" she called out quietly just as the door closed.

Snape just stood there for a moment, face frozen in an unreadable expression, his hands on his waist. He then strode toward his chair and in a single motion flipped it violently across the room. "Damnit!" he swore furiously through clinched teeth. He struck the table with the heel of his hand in frustration, then leaned against it, his body sagging slightly, his shoulders slumped. Without turning, he took out his wand, waved is across the chandelier, and the lights went out.


End file.
